


Closet Walls

by incubitch



Series: Occult Hospital [1]
Category: Occult Hospital, Original Work
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Demons, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Roughness, Semi-Public Sex, Succubi & Incubi, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incubitch/pseuds/incubitch
Summary: There was almost nothing gentle about the first time.





	Closet Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! A wild original work appears!!   
>  Literally no one is going to understand this work, aside from me and one other amazing human. This is for them, bless up.   
>  Mikael belongs to me, Faust belongs to @cannibalisticcheshir, Venus belongs to @1sugarbun1, Dr. Lynexia and the hospital universe belongs to @teadracula

 There was almost nothing gentle about the first time.

 The first time, the two of them are nothing but sharp edges and rough movements. Neither of them undress, the tight space of the supply closet wouldn’t allow for it. Pressed against one another in the dark, their eyes adjusting easily to the shift in lighting.

 Mikael had grabbed Faust’s upper arm as they passed one another, pulling him closer and standing on his toes to whisper in the taller man’s ear; “I see how you look at me, you fiend.”

 They weren’t looking at each other, now. Not in the eyes, at least. Faust had spun him around hard; he braced his hands on a dusty shelf, let his head droop forward, allowed his hips to cant back ever so slightly.

 The air in the tiny room was almost unbearably hot. He tossed his head back at one point and found that it was resting against Faust’s shoulder—who, when he noticed, used a still-gloved hand to push back the sweat soaked strands of blond hair from his forehead. The gesture was…kind? Considerate in a way that hadn’t been expected of a man like Faust.

 When they emerged from the closet, breathing heavily and walking strangely, they both earned a few sidelong glances from their fellow staff members. Faust gave him a curt nod, and they set off in different directions.

\--

 After the first time came a second, and then a third, and then Mikael stopped keeping count. It was always the same between them; a quick fuck in a supply closet or an empty exam room, nothing more. They never kissed each other, or flirted in the halls, or met outside of the hospital.

 His knowledge of Faust was scarce. He knew that Faust was an incubus, like him, and that he likely fed on the energy of humans. He knew that Faust enjoyed choking him, that he enjoyed feeling in control of their encounters. He knew that Faust was hopelessly in love with the head Doctor, but he highly doubted that Faust even realized it himself. 

 There was something strange and melancholy about him—like he had completely forgotten how to handle emotions as a human would. Although, there was also the possibility that Faust had never been human at all. That he was born of fire and ash, living among society as an onlooker.

 He looked as human as anyone else, with his dark hair and impressive height. His hands were always freezing, he rarely smiled, and seemed to have no notable interests outside of his work. He had an awful habit of gazing at Doctor Lynexia with a stupid, longing look in his eyes; an overly loyal guard dog, set on protecting a master that hardly gave him the time of day.

 The arrangement between Mikael and Faust was mutually beneficial and without much pretense. They used each other for stress relief, for brief pleasure, for fulfillment. Fighting each other for dominance (a fight that Mikael would often lose on purpose), leaving welts and bruises, biting hard enough to draw blood.

 It suited them. As incubi, creatures who fed on lust and sexuality, it made sense for them. Mikael told himself that it made sense.

\--

The first time Faust said his name was during one of their meetings. It may have been the tenth or eleventh time that they had met like this, but the first time they had tried this specific position. Somehow, Faust was able to scrunch his long legs in order to sit on the floor with Mikael perched in his lap.

 A tiny supply closet was not the most ideal setting for experimentation-- with Faust continuously bumping the back of his head on the shelf behind him; however, there was nothing bad about it. Mikael’ hands were fists in the fabric of Faust’s overcoat, their trousers shucked down just enough to allow access.

 Mikael noted that this was also the first time that he was able to study Faust’s expressions so clearly; his jaw hanging open slightly, his glasses askew, his eyes half-lidded.

 

 “Mikael,” he sighed. It was so breathy that it was almost inaudible, but then he said it again, a sharp inhale; “Mikael.”

 “Shut up.” Mikael whispered, even though he most definitely did _not_ want Faust to obey this order. “They’ll hear you in the hallway.”

 Faust pulled back, confused, brushing his thumb along Mikael’s cheekbone. “Since when have you started caring?”

 And that was a question that Mikael couldn’t answer. Firstly, because he didn’t have a clever response thought out. Secondly, because Faust had pulled him in and kissed him directly on the mouth.

\--

 Mikael was almost convinced that no one had noticed the affair, until someone had to go and ruin it for him.

 “You’re happy lately.” Venus stated plainly, stirring her tea.

 They sat alone in one of the breakrooms, as they often did. Venus was, as Mikael had come to find out, one of the only people he knew that enjoyed sitting in silence. Evidently that was not the case now, as she looked up quizzically when he didn’t immediately respond with a sharp quip.

 “Am I?” He feigned innocence, but he could tell that she had figured something out by the mischievous look in her eyes.

 “What’s going on with you and Doctor Krede?”

 Mikael coughed, knowing that the façade was over. If she knew, others knew as well; the assumptions and rumors were probably spreading like wildfire.  

 “Faust? Why do you ask?”

 She chuckled, brushing a lock of light pink hair from her face. “I’m the head of security, Kael. You don’t think I notice when locked exam rooms or janitor’s closets are broken into? I see how you look at him.”

 He sighed, hating her only for a brief moment. “And here I thought I was being discreet.”

\--

 When he invited Faust over to his apartment, he really didn’t think that he would be met with acceptance.

 When he opened the door to find him standing in the hall, finely dressed and a bit awkward, he almost let his disbelief show. Mikael wasn’t even sure _why_ he invited the Doctor over; they weren’t dating, they were hardly even friends. Nothing much had evolved over the months that they had spent in each other’s company—other than the fact that they sometimes kissed and that they usually regarded each other with mutual respect.

 “Are you going to let me in?” Faust asked when Mikael didn’t move aside.

 Stupidly, he watched as Faust ducked under the doorframe to accommodate for his height, toeing off his shoes before walking any further.

 Like a bitch in heat, Mikael was on him within a minute. It was so unlike him; he was supposed to be coy, untouchable. He was supposed to make people work for his attention, to be honored when they received it. Yet, something about Faust made his head spin.

 He pinned Mikael against the wall, first, with no regard for what the neighbors would think. They moved to the sofa, then to the hallway, then to the bedroom doorframe, and finally to the bed.

\--

 “You have a nice bed.” Faust noted, drowsily. Both of them naked and sated, the lack of conversation was only a little awkward.

 “I don’t use it.” Mikael responded, turned away from his partner and staring at the wall.

 “Why?”

 “I don’t sleep.”

 “You don’t?” He sounded shocked.

 “You do?” Mikael perked his head up, shifting to face Faust.

 “I…enjoy it.”

  Mikael snickered, rolling over fully and scooching closer to him. “You _enjoy_ sleeping.” He echoed, mimicking Faust’s accent. “Do you even have a house?”

 “I have an office.”

 “You sleep there? On that tiny couch?”  
 Faust nodded as if this made perfect sense. Mikael rolled his eyes and pulled the duvet up to his chin.

 Neither of them fell asleep, then. They just…existed in close proximity. Mikael’s head resting just shy of Faust’s shoulder. It was nice, and Mikael wasn’t in any rush to end whatever it was that they were sharing in that moment. But he did so anyway, because he was nothing if not honest.

 “What are we doing, Doctor Krede? What is this?”

 There was a silence and Mikael was convinced he had shattered everything.

 “I like you.” The words felt strange leaving his mouth. Did he? Did he like Faust? He hadn’t put much thought into it, but he didn’t feel like he was lying. “I like this.”

 The silence continued; though it wasn’t inherently unpleasant.

 “I know I’m not him.” Mikael admitted, a little sadly. “I know you probably just see me as…as a quick fuck. And I think that I’m okay with that. But I like this, too.”

  Faust pushed himself up, sitting himself on the edge of the mattress with his back facing Mikael. “Why won’t you let yourself have anything?”

 “What?”

 “You’re trying to push me away. You’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t care. Why?”

  Mikael sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. _Because an immortal life lasts forever. Because no one will ever stick around forever. Because I want to be alone forever._

 “Is it working? Have I pushed you away?”

 “No, Mikael. I just want to know why you’re so scared of being vulnerable.”

 “That’s easy for you to say. It seems to me like you don’t feel anything at all.”

 Faust gave him a look over his shoulder. Mikael never noticed something as trivial as the color of Faust’s eyes before that moment—they were dark brown. The same color as his hair.

 “Why are you so loyal to him?” Mikael regretted asking the question as soon as he did it.

 “Because I…” A pause. An exhale. “I don’t know.”

 Mikael nodded although Faust had already turned his head back around. He moved to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side of the mattress, feet not quite reaching the floor.

 “I lie about a lot of things, Faust.” He tentatively placed his hand on Faust’s bare shoulder. “But I don’t think I’m lying about this.”

 To Mikael’s surprise, Faust expected no further explanation; the Doctor leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t like their other kisses—it was softer, gentler, less urgent.

 Mikael felt his back hit the softness of the mattress within seconds, Faust leaning over him. There were no bruises, this time. No sharpness, no unkind names, no denial. It was strange and sweet and unyielding. _This,_ Mikael thought to himself.

 --

 When Faust’s breath became a steady rhythm, his features slackened, and his eyes closed; Mikael draped an arm across his waist. He felt himself grow tired, as well. A sensation he hadn’t felt in decades.

 The night dragged on, and Mikael—in the company of a friend, fell asleep.

 


End file.
